


Just One Night

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Post-Credits Scene, F/M, Longing, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sexual Content, Trust, Wakanda, obligations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 06:05:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13564425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: Two people in a room can get more done than a hundred.





	Just One Night

**Author's Note:**

> I started this not long after Civil War and then other things came up, but the Black Panther premiere is fast approaching and I wanted to get this posted prior to that making this not at all relevant or likely. 
> 
> Much thanks to Meatball42 for all the encouragement and the read through. Seriously, you are a PEACH! All remaining mistakes are mine.

The plane touched down at precisely noon. T'Challa waited alone on the runway as the jet glided to a stop and Natasha made her way down the stairs, her expression guarded.

"Ms. Romanoff," he greeted, extending his hand and leading her away from the plane.

Natasha nodded slightly and shook his hand, then followed him across the tarmac. "Your Highness."

"I am glad you were willing to come. The past few weeks have not been easy ones. Captain Rogers is eager to see you."

"And Sergeant Barnes?" she asked once they had cleared the runway.

T'Challa paused, startled. Clearly the good Captain had not explained the situation to her fully.

"I'm sorry. I thought you knew. Sergeant Barnes chose to be cryogenically preserved again." 

She stopped mid-stride and shot him a sharp look.

"At his own insistence," he hastened to add, spreading his hands before him in a conciliatory manner. "Captain Rogers was not at all enthusiastic, but the Sergeant felt that it was best for now and his wishes prevailed. Our doctors took all due care."

"Any word on the others?" Natasha asked briskly, abruptly turning the subject away from Barnes as they resumed their walk toward the waiting car.

"You mean those on the Raft?" 

She nodded.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry to say that there has been no news. But I believe if we work together, we can come up with a plan for rescue."

For the first time since landing, she smiled. "Thank you."

\---

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. After showing Natasha to her rooms, T'Challa took her to the Captain, who did far more to allay her concerns about Barnes than anything T'Challa himself could have offered.

When she was satisfied with all of Roger's answers, the three of them proceed to pour over the plans for the Raft, which Rogers had obtained from an unnamed source within the United States.

And all the while, as they plotted and planned, T'Challa couldn't ignore the frisson of awareness he had for the woman across the table. He'd first felt it when they'd met in Vienna, but the moment Natasha had stepped foot in his country, he had felt the flair of arousal reignite. Her quick wit, sharp mind, and beautiful countenance intrigued him. 

He wondered if she felt something similar. The smiles she shot him from across the table suggested perhaps she did, but he was no fool. 

She was a seasoned former SHIELD agent and spy, well aware that she would garner more favor with him with smiles and sweetness. And yet, he'd already promised to help her and her friends, had invited her here to his country in good faith. That alone should have told her there was no need for false affability. 

But there was no way for him to know for sure. She guarded her true feelings extremely well.

When Rogers left them late in the afternoon, T'Challa suggested a tour of the palace grounds, hoping that she would open up to him as they strolled. 

"I'd love to. But only if you'll call me Natasha," she said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow,

He nodded and steered her towards the outer edge of the garden. 

"And perhaps you could bring yourself to call me T'Challa?" he asked in return. "You have tased me with your widow's bites, after all."

His comment surprised a laugh out of her and he marvelled at how such a genuine smile transformed her. She was a beautiful woman at all times and in battle she was a ferocious warrior, nearly matching his own Dora Milaje. But now, relaxed and at ease, there was something almost transcendent about her. 

Another wave of desire rushed through him and he frowned in consternation.

"Is everything alright, Your Highness?" she asked, noticing his suddenly change in mood.

"T'Challa," he corrected absentmindedly.

"Of course," she said. "T'Challa."

"I am not yet accustomed to being called king, even a month later," he confessed. "It becomes easier with time, I've been told, but at moments like this, I do not wish to be reminded of my responsibilities to my kingdom. I wish to simply be myself."

She looked at him quizzically and he stopped upon the path, turning so that they stood face to face. He had no patience for subterfuge, found it rarely helped in most situations, and so he was honest when he next spoke.

"I know your priority at this time is freeing your friends, but I find myself wanting to better acquaint myself with you, Ms. Romanoff. Much better." He paused. "But as we have not had much time to get to know one another, and our time here is limited, I also find myself unsure of how to proceed."

She worried her lower lip, and he could see she was trying to figure out how to best formulate her answer. He waited patiently while she did.

"My partner," she began.

He nodded, recalling him from the battle. "The one with the bow."

She smiled briefly. "Yes. He's my main priority right now, it's true. But at the same time, I can't deny that I feel a certain attraction to you and would like to get to know you better as well."

T'Challa allowed himself a small smile. "That is gratifying to learn."

"I would like to explore whatever this is," she said, gesturing to the space between them. "But I won't make promises I can't keep."

"One hour, one night, or one week… I only ask for whatever you are willing to give. I have obligations of my own that I am bound by. I understand your concerns," he assured her, tucking her hand within his arm again and resuming their walk. "Come. There are eyes and ears everywhere on the grounds. We should retire somewhere more private so that we may continue this conversation."

"Conversation? Is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Natasha teased.

He cast a sideways glance at her, his lips quirking up in an amused smile. "That is what _I_ am calling it. And what it _is_." He paused, then added, "For now. Do not mistake my chivalry for anything else."

"Wouldn't think of it," she said with a little wink.

He laughed. "Come. Dinner will be ready soon. Let us go in to eat."

\---

T'Challa was called away at the end of dinner on a minor state matter. While he doubted the delay would have any significant impact, he was disappointed that he would not be able to resume his conversation with Natasha until morning.

He need not have worried. 

Shortly into his meeting, Ayo appeared to inform him that Natasha had entered his private rooms in the palace proper. Much to Ayo's chagrin, he waved away her concerns, indicating that Natasha was welcome to wait for him wherever she wished, including in his rooms.

Some time later, when he entered his suite, he learned that not only had she made herself comfortable there but, much to his amusement, had commandeered his shower as well. He followed the sound of the running water to his well-appointed bathroom and leaned back against the tiled wall, a small smile playing about his lips as he silently watched her for a moment. 

Her pale skin glistened beneath the multiple jets of his shower and her wet hair clung to her shoulders like a fiery cape. She appeared absolutely oblivious to his presence, but he had no doubt she knew he was there. She was a woman who was always aware of what was happening around her, despite outward appearances.

It was quite likely one of the many reasons why he found her so intriguing. 

"Your security sucks," Natasha finally said, shifting beneath the spray and turning towards him.

"On the contrary. My security was informed that you and Captain Rogers were to have free reign of all areas in the residence. Ayo alerted me thirty minutes ago to your presence here. She was… concerned about the familiarity." T'Challa smiled widely as he pushed away from the wall and quietly undressed before entering the shower enclosure with her. His erection unabashedly jutted out and he made no move to hide his arousal as he stepped closer. "I was not so concerned."

"Well, in that case, you're far too trusting," she said, an amused glint in her eyes as she met him halfway and wound her arms around his neck. 

He took another step, crowding her body with his own, his erection grazing her stomach as he bent to press his lips to her throat. "Perhaps. But as allies, I did not wish to restrict your movement within my country or my palace." 

"At all?" she questioned as she slid her hands along his broad shoulders.

His tongue swept against her pulse and he nuzzled the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe. "At all." He paused to glance at her with a wicked grin. "Unless you yourself wish it."

She laughed and tipped her head back to give him better access. "Kinda kinky, don't you think?"

"I think," he said carefully, his lips continuing to play long her throat, "That you are a woman full of surprises."

"I suppose I am," she murmured. 

"And that you might enjoy some restrictions," he continued as he moved to take her mouth in a brief but searing kiss.

"You may be right," she agreed a bit breathlessly. 

"But I do not think that was your intention when you decided to come to my rooms and use my shower," he whispered against her lips. "So tell me… What were you hoping would happen?" 

"Here? In your shower?" she asked and he moved his mouth lower to graze his teeth along her collarbone.

"To start with," he said, pulling back somewhat to look at her, his gaze hot and lustful.

She grinned flirtatiously at him. "Maybe exactly what's happening right now."

He grin was almost feral. "And what _is_ happening right now?"

"If you don't know…" she teased, looking up at him through hooded eyes.

"Natasha." He nipped at her neck in warning.

Her demeanor instantly changed; no longer was she a seductive siren. Her arms, though still around his neck, were no longer twined seductively. The smirk upon her lips disappeared.

Instead, she looked up at him with honest, green eyes, her expression serious. "What was it you said earlier? One hour, one night, one week?"

He nodded. 

"Let's just start with tonight," she said, her voice husky as her mouth took his once more in a long, deep kiss. 

\---

When T'Challa awoke near dawn, he was alone in his bed. But he could still smell Natasha's light perfume in the air and when he turned his head he saw her standing by the windows, admiring the garden. Beneath the silk dressing gown she'd borrowed, her figure was clearly outlined by the pale morning light. He longed to go to her, peel the gown from her body, and worship her under the sun's emerging rays.

"You're awake," she said, not once taking her eyes from the garden. 

He nodded, despite her lack of attention to his person. "I am indeed. And you, too, are awake."

"Yes." 

He pulled himself up to a sitting position, forearms resting comfortably upon his knees as he studied her. She was a beautiful woman, full of complex secrets, some of which he had plumbed the previous night. He yearned to learn all of them, starting with what was keeping her across the spacious room from him. 

"What bothers you this morning?" he asked.

Natasha turned and smiled at him, but he had learned some things about her during their brief time together. What she offered him now was not a true smile.

"Who said something was bothering me?"

"As lovely as my garden is, it is not as lovely as what we shared last night. So clearly something has kept you from enjoying a leisurely morning in my bed." T'Challa paused and, when no further comment was made, added, "You spoke of your partner the other day. The archer on the Raft."

She nodded, and he noticed a small frown form between her brows, similar to the one that had appeared the afternoon before.

"Are you thinking of him?" he asked.

"Yes." She took a deep breath and faced him squarely. "Clint and I were - _are_ \- more than just partners."

He managed to keep the surprise and dismay from his expression. "You are lovers."

Natasha shook her head and offered him another small, sad smile. "No."

T'Challa frowned. "Then what?"

"Something much more complicated than that."

"I am not sure that I understand."

She shifted away from the window, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Her expression was open and honest and he was grateful for that, at least. He would have hated any lies between them, especially after last night.

"He has a wife," she said, her eyes never leaving his as she spoke. A hint of a true smile briefly appeared when he was unable to hide his surprise this time, but it was quickly replaced by a much more sober expression. "They took me in. Accepted me with all the baggage from my past, welcomed me into their lives and family. I owe him - I owe _them_ \- a debt that can never be repaid."

Something cold took hold of him. He was greatly disappointed to think that she had bartered her body for his assistance, especially when he had made it clear he was not looking for compensation for his aid.

"I see," T'Challa said. 

"I'm not sure that you do," she replied.

"Then explain it to me." He spread his arms wide to encompass the rumpled bed. "What was last night to you? Negotiations for my help? I had already promised my assistance in every way possible. This was not necessary."

Natasha shook her head.

"This complicates things," she admitted, her eyes steady on his. "But I wasn't bartering sex for Clint's freedom."

"Then what was it?" he asked. 

"Mutual satisfaction." 

He contemplated her in silence, wondering what her confession was leading to. He thought when she had begun that he could guess, but something in her tone, something in her look, made him realize he had no idea. He shifted on the bed, sitting up straighter.

"The information on your partner and his family. Why are you sharing this with me?" he finally asked.

"Because after last night, you deserved to know." Natasha paused and he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts and continue. "I once told a friend that the truth was a matter of circumstances, that it wasn't all things to all people all the time. I recreated myself as needed for each person or situation as it arose. I'm tired of being a different woman to each of the people in my life. It's lonely. I want you to know the real me."

Of all that he could have imagined, it was not this. He was gratified that she had shared this with him, had shared herself with him in such an honest and open way.

"Thank you," T'Challa finally said. His eyes were gentle as he asked his next question. "Your partner - would he support this?"

She inclined her head, ever so subtly, an amused glint in her eyes. "I am my own person with my own needs and agency. My sex life isn't something in which he gets a say." Her amusement waned. "But I wanted you to understand that my life is not without certain ties that are extremely binding."

He nodded. "As I mentioned yesterday, my own life has similar ties. I would appear we are more alike than one would think."

"Then we understand one another," she said.

His chin dipped in acknowledgement. Indeed they did.

"Now, in the clear light of morning, do you still want this?" he asked after several long moments, concern clear in his eyes and tone. She had given herself willingly last night, without coercion, but given the information he now had, he worried she might have regrets. He would not take her again without her very clear consent.

"Yes," she confirmed, leaning in and placing a soft kiss upon his lips. "I most definitely do."

He reached out and lightly brushed the silk covering her breasts. Her nipples immediately tightened in response and he smiled at her body's reaction. His hand slid down further to part the folds of the dressing gown and she shrugged the garment from her shoulders.

Chuckling, T'Challa tumbled her down onto the sheets. "Then by all means, let us enjoy ourselves one more time before the day begins."

\---

He awoke a second time that morning to bright sunlight streaming through the windows. This time, however, instead of finding Natasha across the room, he awoke to find her draped across him, her lips caressing his chest while she fondled his erection.

"Good morning," T'Challa said huskily, threading his fingers through her vibrant hair.

She peered up at him in amusement from beneath her lashes. "It was already a good morning," she teased, kissing lower. "I'm just making it an even better one."

His responding chuckle turned to a gasp as she reached his erection with her mouth and delicately swiped her tongue across the tip.

"There is no need -"

"Who said anything about need?" she murmured, licking his length once more. "Can't I simply want?"

"Of course you can," he breathed, trying to gain some sense of control. "I just thought, as the morning swiftly passes, that we might want to take advantage of my shower again."

She paused in her ministrations. "An excellent idea."

She slid up his body and had just lowered her head to kiss him when there was a tap upon the door. They stopped, their lips a mere hairsbreadth from one anothers.

"Were you expecting someone?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye. 

He briefly closed his eyes. "It is mostly likely the kitchens with my breakfast."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your staff brings you breakfast in bed each day?"

He sighed. "On occasion. When I am not scheduled to meet with one constituent or another. It is not frequent."

Natasha snickered and sat up, reaching for the robe that had been tossed to the end of the bed earlier. 

"Frequent or not, I think I could get used to being the consort of a king, especially if they get brought breakfast in bed." She pulled the robe on and tied the sash tight, then called out for the person at the door to enter.

T'Challa frowned at her, not out of any real disapproval - being served breakfast in bed _was_ a rather ridiculous thing, no matter how infrequently it occured - but as a warning to show proper decorum around the servants. She merely smirked at him and then graciously thanked the young girl who placed a heavy silver tray upon the bedside table. 

When the girl left, she scooted over and lifted the lid off the tray. 

"Fruits, pastries, tea, chocolates…" She turned and grinned at him. "This is quite the spread."

He flushed. "I assure you --"

"This isn't the norm. Yeah, so you said." She plucked an overly ripe piece of mango from the tray and held it out to him. "Fruit?"

"Yes, please."

He bit into the piece she held out and then licked her dripping fingers. "Delicious."

"The mango?"

"You." He grinned and looked from the tray to her. "Are you overly famished right now?"

"Not especially," Natasha said, grinning back.

"Good. Because I find I am much more hungry for you than for any delicacies that can be found on that tray," he admitted, reaching for her.

She tossed the muffin she'd picked up aside. "Well, in that case, let's totally skip breakfast."

\---

An hour later, their late breakfast was interrupted by a phone call from the head of his Research & Design team. With a sympathetic look, Natasha slid from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later he heard the shower turn on.

Secure in the knowledge that she was occupied, T'Challa continued with his call, lounging back against the pillows of his bed as he fielded questions about speed versus durability for the new vehicle they were developing. He was still on the phone when Natasha finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing a navy towel about her head and absolutely nothing else.

With a grin, he reached for her hand, intent on pulling her to the bed again. Wagging her finger, she sidestepped him and pointed to the phone. He hastily ended his call and reached for her again, but was stopped this time by a knock upon the door. 

Natasha paused in leaning over to kiss him and looked at him questioningly. "More breakfast?"

He shook his head, puzzled. "I have no idea who it might be."

Which was not entirely true. While the breakfast delivery had been an oversight on his part, he had a fairly good guess of who was at his door and why, although he did not know for sure. It was likely Natasha also knew, even if she did not care to admit it.

"Shall I?" Natasha asked.

Her boldness continued to amuse him. With a wide smile, he gestured towards the door. "By all means."

Dropping the towel to her shoulders, she shrugged her robe back on and ambled to the door, cracking it a fraction before happily pulling it wide to their visitor. From his vantage point, T'challa couldn't see who it was, but he could clearly make out Captain Roger's surprised voice. 

"I came to see King T'Challa, but I must've --"

Natasha's throaty laugh stopped him mid-sentence. "You got the right room. Do you want to come in?"

He could not clearly make out the rest of their conversation, but the Captain's tone told him all he needed to know. Whatever plans they had started to make regarding the Raft were ready to be put into motion. His short time with Natasha had come to an end. 

Rising from the bed, he crossed to the armoire and shrugged on boxers and a shirt while she finished her conversation. He was just buttoning the shirt when she softly closed the door and turned to face him.

"Guess you heard most of that," Natasha said, as she padded back across the room towards him.

"Enough," T'Challa confirmed, finishing the last button. "We are ready?"

She nodded.

"Steve's contact says there's a planned supply delivery scheduled for eighteen hundred hours. We can make our move then." She cast a sardonic smile his way. "Looks like our time together is at an end."

T'Challa studied her for a moment. As anxious as she was to rescue her friends, she could tell that she was disappointed. He tucked her head against his chest and lightly kissed the top of her damp head. 

"We knew our time to be limited. Will you be all right?" he asked gently.

"Why, King, are you worried about me and my fragile emotions?" Natasha teased, wrapping her arms around him.

"Would it shock you if I said yes?" he said, his tone light although he knew she was not fooled. 

"It would shock me if you said no," she admitted with her typical no nonsense attitude. "But better one night then none, right?"

"Yes," he confessed. "I would not have traded one moment of last night or this morning, even had I known how short it would be."

"Good," Natasha said, giving him one last kiss and then pulling away. "Then let's go rescue Clint's lazy ass from the Raft. There's Avenger work to be done."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm #30! I'm #30! 
> 
> Seriously... how are their only 30 fics with Natasha/T'Challa in the tags?


End file.
